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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501771">I'll sleep with you (in my heart)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis'>Florchis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Insomnia, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Sleep Deprivation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:55:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22501771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter can't sleep. His partners try different approaches to help him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'll sleep with you (in my heart)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOfShip/gifts">AgentOfShip</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the prompt: Scis&amp;Spies + one (or more) character can't sleep, the other(s) try to stay awake to stay awake to keep them company</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When things calm down for what promises to be a long period of time, there is no easy way for them all to adapt. For starters, how can you be really sure that the problems have ended, that there is no such thing as an apocalyptic mess just waiting for you to relax to unravel over your head? There is no way to know, and how everyone decides to- or can- cope with that is entirely personal. </p><p>Like how Bobbi sleeps, still, with a concealed weapon strapped to her body. It’s not safe and in less skilled hands it could be deadly, but she can not shut down her brain unless she feels the comforting weight and the subsequent increase in her ability to defend them all.</p><p>Like how Jemma fusses over all of them at the minimum scrap, putting a lot more worry and care than necessary for small injuries. Being safe means being <em> safe </em>in her book, and she refuses to consider that things have quieted down unless everyone is at a hundred percent all the time.</p><p>Like how Fitz has installed sensors in every door and every window, a sophisticated version of baby monitors in every room, and traps and secret stashes of weapons everywhere, to the point that nowadays one almost needs a college degree in order to how to navigate the house safely. He was caught unprepared many times before, he won’t let it happen again when things inevitably go south once more- and they all know it will eventually happen; this bucolic peace can not last forever, they don’t talk about it but they all feel it in their blood.      </p><p>Like how Hunter doesn’t sleep at all.</p><p>At first, he thought it was just a residual effect of adrenaline and stress and his body not being used to having proper, regular rest. By now, he knows better. It is not that he doesn’t sleep because he is physically incapable; after a handful of nightmares that made him wake up with panic in his veins and clammy hands, he realizes that he can’t sleep because he is <em> emotionally </em>incapable. </p><p>Because, who would take care of his partners if he is asleep? Bobby, probably, as usual, but he can not rationalize that in a normal way. Because maybe if he sleeps Bobbi will be kidnapped, and Jemma taken to a far-out planet, and Fitz will literally die. No, thank you, he is not taking any chances.</p><p>He takes it in stride, waiting till they have all fell asleep to wake up and go watch TV in the living room till dawn. Tiptoeing back inside the bedroom every once in a while to watch them all peaceful and safe while they sleep is an added bonus, and Hunter holds onto that while he is irritable and exhausted, chugging coffee all throughout the days like nobody’s business, counting hours and minutes and seconds till he can catch his nap.</p><hr/><p>The first one to notice is Bobbi, which is not really surprising. </p><p>Hunter is on his third consecutive night of sleeplessness, barely holding it together by sheer force of will, a disgusting amount of caffeine and naps peppered all through the day, when Bobbi appears in the living room, silent, barefooted, eyes still sticky with sleep. Her hair is a mess and she is wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy issue t-shirt and a pair of Star Wars boxer shorts that used to be Fitz’s. She doesn’t say anything, just crawls inside his arms on the couch and snuggles against his chest. Hunter holds her like she is the most precious thing in the world. Which she is.</p><p>“You smell dead inside,” she mutters after a while, voice sleepy and hoarse, when the silence had been so long he thought she had gone back to sleep, and Hunter has to bite down his tongue to not let out a hysterical laugh.</p><p>“I feel dead inside,” he agrees, and Bobbi's fingers tighten on his t-shirt.</p><p>“You know you can tell me anything, right?”</p><p>He knows, and yet he doesn’t. He kisses the top of her head instead, gentle and soft.</p><p>“Go back to sleep, Bob.”</p><hr/><p>Morning comes without him getting any shut-eye, but Bobbi’s weight on top of him is solid and comforting, and for the first time since this madness started he feels somewhat rested. </p><hr/><p>The next night is Jemma the one who searches him while he is trying to watch the TV on mute. She is wearing one of Bobbi’s t-shirts, that looks almost like a dress on her small frame and Hunter’s exhausted heart perks up at the sight.</p><p>Unlike Bobbi, she doesn’t crawl on the couch with him, which is a shame because Hunter wouldn’t hate a cuddle partner right about now.</p><p>“You and me, kitchen,” she commands, and Hunter does not want to fight with her so he follows her instruction.</p><p>He leans on the fridge watching her put on the kettle and start rummaging the cabinets for cups and a tea tin. He wants to ask her to stop, to go back to the bed, to not hate him because he knows she suffers whenever one of them doesn’t take care of their health properly. Instead, he asks, “Did Bob tell you, Jems?”</p><p>Instead of replying, she walks to him and gives him a kiss. Hunter circles her waist with his hands; she is so small and fragile, it’s no wonder he can’t sleep thinking that something might happen to her. It’s hard to remember how strong she actually is while she looks so vulnerable and young. Jemma only replies once she is back with the mugs, her face hidden behind her long hair. </p><p>“No. I mean, yes. But I knew before she told me. We all did.”</p><p>There is not much he can reply to that, not really. He feels a bit guilty and ashamed but the out-of-my-control sensation overpowers all the rest.</p><p>“Why did you bother waking up then, love? You know I can’t sleep. There is not much you can do about that.” Maybe it’s the exhaustion, but he is feeling really touchy-feely with her right now, so he moves closer and places his hands on top of her shoulders.</p><p>Her shoulders drop under his hands like his touch reminded her that she was holding too much tension, and Hunter strokes her shoulder blades with his thumbs, not a massage but soothing strokes.      </p><p>“I want to help you.”</p><p>He leans down to kiss the side of her jaw, trying to soften the blow. “Sorry love, but no tea is going to help me.”</p><p>She snorts, and Hunter is so confused by the sound he can only remain there, his back hunched, his face next to hers.</p><p>“I know.” She sounds breathless and so full of herself that Hunter feels like playfully spanking her, which is, like, not a strange reaction <em>at all. </em> “But maybe this will.” </p><p>Jemma opens the small tin she is holding in her hands and shows him the contents. Hunter knows, then, that he must be hallucinating.    </p><p>“Is that-Jemma, is that <em> weed?” </em></p><p>She rolls her eyes at him. He can’t see it, but he knows her.</p><p>“Gosh, don’t say it like it’s so scandalous, or like I’m a child.” Hunter is still looking at her with his mouth hanging open, and she knocks the tin against the counter twice. “Get the milk for me, will you? We need some fat to dissolve this THC.”</p><p>It was a nice try, but Jemma’s weed-tea- <em> don’t be such a child, Hunter, it’s called cannabis tea- </em> does not get him to sleep. Instead, they spend half the night giggling like teenagers at the kitchen table, and the other half raiding the pantry. It doesn’t get him to sleep, but he can’t say in good conscience it was a bad idea when morning comes and finds them laying in the living room, holding hands and telling each other hushed and dreamy secrets.</p><hr/><p>The next night he is not even surprised when he comes out of the bathroom to find Fitz fixing their game console.</p><p>“The birds roped you into this, eh, mate?”</p><p>Fitz doesn’t reply and instead tosses a controller in his direction. They settle down on the couch, game volume at minimum, and it’s not until they are watching the beginning credits of the game that Fitz speaks.</p><p>“We are worried about you, Hunter.”</p><p>Usually, he would fire back a charming smile and a dismissive gesture- he doesn’t do well when people care about him so in the open, and he hasn’t learned how to deal with that even with Bobbi’s decade-long experience in the matter. But somehow this time is different, with Fitz’s lovely face bathed in blue light, his body and his mind too tired to protest properly.</p><p>“I know,” he finally replies, and Fitz makes a sound like he can’t believe they are actually having this conversation.</p><p>“Wanna talk about it?” Fitz offers, and there is a gentleness in his voice that the girls have tried and never managed to replicate. </p><p>Hunter shoots a zombie on the head just to not look him in the face. It’s endearing, too, how Fitz and Bobbi are similar in a lot of the things that matter, something people probably wouldn’t expect but that Hunter carries close to his heart.</p><p>“Honestly? No.”</p><p>A long pause follows his statement, and pins crawl up his arms.</p><p>“Okay.” Fitz’s character covers for him while his own character goes on a zombie-killing rampage, and Hunter is so grateful for him, always. “Take your time.”</p><hr/><p>Despite what Fitz told him, the next day when he comes back home from work, desperate for his nap, they are all waiting for him in the living room in their pajamas. It’s somewhat of a charming picture, all of them with their nightly looks under the afternoon light.</p><p>“What is this?”     </p><p>“This is an intervention, Hunter.” Unsurprisingly, Bobbi is the one that rules the roost, while Jemma and Fitz are quick on her heels to ease her bluntness.</p><p>“If you can’t sleep with us, we will sleep with you!” Jemma announces, cheerful, and his heart fills with affection.</p><p>Fitz grabs his hand and leads him to the bedroom, the girls following behind.</p><p>“We miss you. We know that you can not sleep at night for whatever reason, but you do nap. So we will nap with you.”</p><p>“Make a full afternoon of it!” Jemma chimes in.</p><p>“Something of a whole experience of you, you, you, me and a bed,” Bobbi finishes, and the worry is still clear on her face, but she is also smiling.</p><p>This is not attacking his core problem, he knows. But somehow it feels easier to think about them being safe in the soft golden afternoon light than it is during the night. If his demons don’t know that he is sleeping they won’t be able to catch them, right?</p><p>“Okay, but I want to be the middle spoon.”</p><p>Fitz turns to look at him, and the girls catch up to them, Jemma hooking her finger in one of Hunter’s belt loops, Bobbi placing her head on top of Fitz’s shoulder.</p><p>“Just this once.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is part of <a>LLF Comment Project</a>, whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:</p><ul>

<li>Short comments</li>

<li>Long comments</li>

<li>Questions</li>

<li>“&lt;3” as extra kudos</li>

<li>Prompts</li>

<li>Image reactions</li>

<li>Reader-reader interaction</li>

This author replies to comments (but it might take a while). If you'd rather not get a reply, please add *whispers* to your comment.</ul></blockquote></div></div>
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